Intermezzo
by Smooshy
Summary: [AU, ZexionDemyx] In just under twenty four hours time, though, things were going to get unusual. I wish I could say I planned it, since then I could take some credit, but I’ve got to blame the universe for this one.
1. Demyx 101

**Disclaimer, et al:** I'm not sure where this one came from, but it won't leave me alone. I don't usually write in first person, so it's a bit experimental in that sense, but I'm having more fun than I have been with writing for a while, so I'm just going to go with it. Zemyx (eventually) because Zemyx _eats all of my brain, all of the time_. AU, since that seems to be all I'm able to write at the moment. I'm a bit uneasy about this one, but screw it! Here it is!

* * *

**#01 Demyx 101**

It didn't really work out according to The Plan. It wasn't really a _concrete_ plan, and by _that_ I mean I had a little idea of where I was supposed to be going, a tiny map of how I was supposed to get there, and a midget car of motivation to see the whole thing through. I'm telling you right now: when you reach eighteen you're supposed to have had a magical experience that tells you exactly what it is you're supposed to do for the rest of your life. I waited for it. All the way through year seventeen of my life I waited for something to crash land in front of me--I didn't know what it was supposed to look like; maybe it was supposed to be like that giant lottery hand that pokes out of the sky and says _it's you_--but it didn't happen.

I was starting to feel a bit put out by the whole thing when my teachers said that I needed to choose something fast, otherwise I'd be spending the rest of my life asking people if they wanted fries with that. I'm sorry to say that it didn't really put the fear of god into me. As long as I got to play my sitar when I came home at night, I didn't really mind that I would have to smell flame-grilled. I _liked fries_. I told my parents and they echoed the same sentiment as the teachers, so I asked them if they'd prefer it if I worked in a health food store. It didn't go down well.

So, there I was, aged eighteen, shoved head first into university life I wasn't sure I wanted. In the beginning it was nice; I got to meet some cool people, and I'm still close to most of them. I chose my main subject, a few weird outside courses and a place to live. For a majority of the time I was too busy to really think about things the way I had when I was in the limbo of seventeen, and I was grateful. There were mixers and pub crawls to go to and societies to join (or, more accurately, _crash_ because we were too bored to study and wanted a free night of junk food and films) and I was quite happy to forget the idea that I wasn't really there by choice.

I stumbled through first year and passed without really having to try. I was lured into false comfort by endless parties and understanding faculty members who really must have been born the day before I offered them my excuses. My parents were pleased that all was well in the land of Demyx's education, but they did worry when I got a full time job over the summer. In a fast food joint. I assured them that I was only working there so I could afford to pay my rent, and Axel wouldn't have to find a crazy temporary flatmate to replace me, so they let it go.

They now blame that summer for everything that happened afterwards, but I really want to tell them that burgers had nothing to do with it. 

I'd love to sit down to Christmas dinner and tell them that it was the more wholesome things in life that made me wander off the path they thought was best for me. I'd love to explain to them exactly how everything happened. They'd probably just sigh into their stuffing and give me the spiel, again, about how I was never going to amount to anything and I could have done so much more with my life. I'd probably stab my own stuffing and tell them I was perfectly fine with being nobody.

I guess it all started once second year was in full swing. The parties tailed off, everyone started to apply themselves, and people talked about how they needed to start trying, because that's what they were there for. I sat on the sofa with my sitar on my lap, wondering if I was ever going to get my stupid sign.

The plan, course and motivation were shaky to begin with. I still wasn't sure of anything, but on the morning of my nineteenth birthday, I came up with an idea. It didn't exactly go exactly the way I'd hoped either, but it _did_ work out better than The (half-baked) Plan.

* * *

That fateful morning I woke up to the sound of something smashing. I tried to ignore it, because it was probably just Axel employing his 'bang on the digibox until something happens' strategy, and I pulled my blankets around me to ward off the cold. Axel, surprisingly, was a morning person, and had probably been up for hours despite the fact that the hands of my clock were only edging towards eight fifteen.

"Demyx, did you spill juice on the thing again?" Axel said as he strode into my room--without knocking, and no 'Happy Birthday'--and dragged my quilt and blankets away from me.

"What? _No!_" I tried to grab my quilt without moving from my comfy position, but it was futile. 

Axel levelled a shit-eating grin at me, dangling my covers just out of reach. "No I did not spill juice on it, _again_, or no please give me back my blankie so I can pretend I'm still asleep and not go to classes?"

I sat on my pillows and ruffled my hair a little in embarrassment. "Both?" Axel laughed and piled my covers back on top of me. He threw himself onto the bed. 

"You know, I'd fix it myself, but I'm a little busy today," he said, and he wiggled his eyebrows. "Classes to go to, professors to astound."

I heard another crash, louder this time, and it was followed by a muffled curse. Axel looked at me, the picture of innocence. A very familiar voice floated through from the lounge. "God, where _are_ you?"

I couldn't help it. I stared out of my door, jaw practically on the floor, and whispered, "Oh, no way."

Axel flexed his bare feet and said, in a way he would have termed cool as fuck, "Oh, Y-E-S way." 

I heard the water running in the kitchen, and someone walking around, and to this day I still don't know how Axel managed to pull the whole thing off. I stared at him, he smiled at me, and I was about to ask for an explanation when Roxas barrelled into the room holding a pair of my jeans. He glared at Axel, and sat the jeans down on the floor.

"Hi Demyx."

"Uh, hey Roxas," was all I could manage. I was trying way too hard not to laugh at the look on Axel's face.

Roxas gave me a nervous smile then turned to Axel and scowled. "You told me you _lived alone_," he said, and he turned and walked out. He slammed the door so hard that it flew open again.

Axel said, "I think he's warming to me."

I looked at him, incredulous. "What was that even about?"

He sat up and tapped me on the nose. "Well, you might want to avoid using the kitchen table."

I threw a pillow at him.

I'd worked with Roxas over the summer, and that's how he'd met Axel. The fact that Axel and I lived together never came up in conversation was largely due to the fact that Axel spent every moment in Roxas' presence flirting with him and making innuendo about fast food. I didn't really want to know what had happened the night before, and I took Axel's advice about the kitchen table.

After Axel left I tried to go back to sleep, but I was too disturbed by the events of the morning, so I stumbled my way through to the forsaken digibox and banged on it a few times myself. No response, zero TV output. I groaned at the prospect of losing my music channels, and slumped on the sofa. A little piece of paper on the coffee table caught my eye, which is miraculous in itself, regardless of what the scrap of paper led to, since the table was buckling under the weight of beer cans and textbooks.

I sat up and grabbed it, unfolded it, and was assaulted by a collection of fonts spelling out **H2WHOA**! I was intrigued and a bit amused. I saw Axel's handwriting underneath the title.

_Thought you might like this! Got assaulted by one of their groupies in the street. Almost lost an eye. The things I do for your amusement!_

I snuggled up on the couch and read the rest of the flyer. It was about time someone organised a swimming society, in my opinion. I'd more or less quit when I finished high school, apart from the occasional trip to the pool. Without the competition it wasn't the same. The flyer gave me the idea to start again though, and maybe the discipline would filter over to the rest of my life, and I'd finally be able to apply myself.

I hoped so. I rested the flyer over my face and tried to take a nap. As always, I found it hard to get to sleep without any background noise, so I laid there, trying not to go cross-eyed from the close newsprint. Eventually I got tired of lying around and dragged myself to the shower, threw on some clothes and took a walk, the flyer in my pocket.

* * *

The campus was filled with students by the time I arrived. There was enough time for me to have something to eat before my lecture, so I grabbed a sandwich from the closest shop and sat on the low wall that surrounded the quad. There were a couple of squirrels running around the trees, so I tossed them a piece of my lunch. Apparently crusts freaked them out, and they ran away. A timetable was posted near the lecture theatre door. I had a few minutes left, so I went inside and found myself a seat.

The lecturer was fiddling with the projector, so I figured it was all right to make myself comfortable. I curled my legs underneath me and sat with one hand resting on my cheek to hide the single earphone I had in. I almost missed the announcement that the hour was up, but I managed to hide my surprise that it had gone by so quickly. Apparently the lecture had been fascinating, according to the people passing me as I left the building. I looked at my watch, and I had just enough time to go to the pool to meet the society before the meeting was over, so I shoved my other earphone in and jogged the few blocks to the gym. 

It took my a while to find the room they were meeting in, but after two wrong turns and a confusing set of directions from an employee whose muscles looked like they were about to burst out and strangle me, I arrived at the squash court they'd reserved. I have no idea why they chose to hold it there, but I suspect it was so Larxene would have a legitimate reason to throw a ball at someone's face if they disagreed with her.

I didn't even get the chance to try to catch their attention, because Larxene stood up as soon as she saw me through the glass and opened the door. She scowled at me and said, "State your purpose."

"H2WHOA?" 

"Great!" She grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room, reached up to grab my shoulders and pushed me to the ground. Everyone else smiled at me, but she stared at me with her arms folded. "Well? Are you going to introduce yourself, or do we have to haze you?" 

That day I discovered from the others in the group that Larxene was more deadly in water than she was on land--which scared me a little--and it had been her idea to start the society. She was in the process of organising a tournament, and we would meet every Saturday and Wednesday at seven am, and if that was too early for anyone then _tough luck_. I gave a sheepish smile and chuckled when I heard that, but she gave me a look so challenging I couldn't even find her weird, pointy hairstyle amusing.

In a sense I was glad that she'd come outside and manhandled me in. It wasn't so hard to talk to the people once she'd nudged me and made me give my full life story, complete with high school swimming stats. I was excited about the whole thing. At least it was something to break up the dull weeks until the end of the semester.

* * *

The rest of the day was normal. Axel arrived home with stories of stalking Roxas around campus. I told him that I found the flyer and had gone to the meeting, and then we ate in front of the TV--terrestrial channels only, to Axel's disgust--and Axel had organised a small party in honour of my birthday. Axel's idea of a party was six boxes of beer and a hat that he forced me to wear as he held me at the window and yelled to passers-by that it was my _special day_. After getting quite drunk, I put a CD on and lay on the couch, watching the ceiling wave around in front of me. Axel sat on the coffee table and tried to make an speech about my qualities, but eventually I fell asleep.

I suppose this is the point when I should say that I knew something important was about to happen, but I really had no idea. I just thought that I was going to end up with a new hobby, finish my degree and putter through life as I had been. To be honest, I didn't really give the whole thing much thought. There was no omen or oracle to tell me to prepare for it. I guess that's just the way things go.

I woke up the next morning and Axel was lying on the floor, a half-rolled cigarette in his hand. I laughed and kicked him in the side, and he grumbled and tried to hit me, which made the tobacco fly everywhere. It was about eleven o'clock on Tuesday morning, and I was about to be hit with the biggest hangover of my life. As soon as I looked at the empty beer bottles on the floor I knew I was going to be sick. Par for the course.

In just under twenty four hours time, though, things were going to get unusual. I wish I could say I planned it, since then I could take some credit, but I've got to blame the universe for this one.


	2. H2WTF

**Dislaimer, et al: **It lives! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed or favourited so far: you guys make my day. I apologise for the wait, since my computer died and decided to take everything with it. (There was smoke, and a bit of fire, I shit you not.) I think this chapter is dreadfully boring, but if you can possibly enjoy I won't hold it against you.

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**#02 H2WTF**

While I'm blaming the universe, I should say that I've never been able to drag myself out of bed before I'm good and ready. I don't know much about DNA, apart from liking the sound of the words _double helix_, but I'm going to point the finger at it for this problem. When Wednesday morning arrived and I had to wake up at six am, I had to stare at the post-it I'd stuck to my alarm clock for about five minutes to understand why I'd written H2WHOA on it. There wasn't a lot of light coming in through blinds, my ankles were tangled in the mass formerly known as my sheets, and it wasn't until six twenty-seven that I managed to convince myself to get out of bed and hunt for a pair of swimming trunks.

We'd sat in the lounge for most of Tuesday, since Axel had the foresight to buy the essentials for the morning after _while_ he was loading up the car with enough beer to render us comatose. The remains of the epic hangover were still in evidence in the lounge: empty soda cans peppered the floor now along with the empty bottles of beer, and they'd obviously had a little party of their own next to the right leg of the couch. I prodded the stain there. It had completely dried. My party hat remained in its new place on top of the digibox.

I stared at it for a minute. It was purple and gold, with only a few of the streamers still attached to the tip. Axel had laughed when he saw it on Tuesday, and proclaimed that if the digibox couldn't be useful, then it could damn well be pretty.

* * *

I love everything about pools. I even love the smell of chlorine. I know the changing room floors are a breeding ground for verrucas and all sorts, but I ignore that. I got changed quickly, showered and headed towards the entrance. I wanted to dive in right away, but Larxene was standing by the lifeguard's chair, glaring at me because I was ten minutes late. I thought the best plan would be to make my way over to her and the rest of the group as quickly as I could without slipping on the wet tiles.

Even _this _plan was bound to sabotage itself.

The baby pool was directly beside the exit from the lockers. It was filled with little kids shouting and throwing balls and splashing each other, and I remembered my dad dumping me in the pool in our back garden, my arms crushed by the armbands my mother insisted on me wearing. I remembered him teaching me how to swim and me teaching him how difficult it was to catch me and get me back indoors once I'd mastered it. I waved at a little girl close to the edge of the pool, and laughed when she submerged her head, popped up and roared at me.

A woman, presumably her mother, scowled at her and said, "Delilah, don't scream at the man!"

Delilah stuck her tongue out at her mum and patted her hands on the top of the water, and some tiny ripples edged out. I smiled at both of them and turned to leave. I could practically feel Larxene's rage filtering through the chlorine in the air.

"Hope you get those armbands off soon!"

She gave me a baby-tooth-bright smile, but as I turned to walk away I bumped into a burly man who was still wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Uhm, sorry man," I muttered to him, and when I heard Delilah's delighted laughter at my graceless exit, I turned to smile sheepishly at her.

That was when I saw him. There was a man, one I guessed was probably a little older than I was, floating by the ladder and drawing me daggers with such intensity that I assumed his grip on the side of the pool was due to anger at me. I'd never seen him before in my life; I would have remembered, because his hair was such an odd shade of blue or grey or violet that I would have told Axel he had a contender in the bizarre hair stakes. I looked around to see if he could be staring at anyone around me, but there was no one nearby. Even the big guy I'd bumped into had already gone to sit on one of the spectator benches that led up the north end of the hall.

I was confused as to why a random stranger looked like he hated me, but as soon as I frowned back at him the expression on his face evaporated, which mystified me even more. He swam awkwardly, using only his arms, to the opposite end of the pool, and when he turned back around he didn't even look at me properly. I eventually started to walk over to Larxene, but I couldn't stop asking myself why someone would spend so much energy glowering at someone and then completely dismiss it.

"All right, get in there," Larxene sniped, and I took her advice. I dived into the deep end opened my eyes under the water. My lung capacity wasn't as good as it had been in high school, so I could only stay under for a little while, and when I immerged the sun had started to puncture the windows, finally reaching the water. I dived again and rolled in the water and looked up: the surface was sparkling. Everything was shifting.

And for a short time, I forgot about the look the man had given me.

I stayed longer than anyone else on the team: long after they'd abandoned the lanes Larxene reserved for us. The lifeguard didn't seem to notice me, since his focus was, naturally, fixed on the baby pool, so I put off leaving until exhaustion crept into my limbs. After I showered and collected my things from my locker, the guy I'd bumped into passed me in the changing rooms, and for a minute I thought he was going to beat the crap out of me, but he wandered past me without any acknowledgement.

When I sat down in the changing cubicle and locked the door, I realised all the relaxation from swimming had dissipated. The guy was three times bigger than me, and I know it was ridiculous, but he put me on edge. I've never been much of a fighter. Axel is scrappier than I am. Even when we were in high school, he was the one who made things happen, and I was the one who waited for things to happen _to _me. He was the one who beat up the kids who picked on me, even when I told him I didn't mind. I'm a passive person, I suppose, the most recent evidence of this being that it had taken Axel, a note and a truly frightening girl to convince me to rediscover something I loved.

I didn't understand at the time, and I don't really have any explanation for it now, but I kept my royal blue, time-stamped wristband from that day. I tore it off my wrist carefully before I got changed, and tucked it away in the side pocket of my bag. I don't tend to hoard things, so I had no place to keep it for the months it remained with me, but it did sit on my bedside table for a while.

* * *

Axel had, miraculously, tidied the lounge when I returned. It might have been to make room for all the folders and books that had migrated, along with him, from his bedroom after classes, but I was still grateful. I slumped onto the sofa beside him and disrupted a collection of notebooks that were balanced on his knee. He pushed aside the set of badly scribbled notes he was fighting to understand days after having written, and turned to me.

"So it went?"

"It was good. A bit... weird," I started, and I remembered the moody man in the pool. I forced a smile. "There was this one guy. He had weird hair. Even weirder than yours."

Axel gave me what I think of as his _dignified expression_, which involves raising his eyebrows, looking down his nose at me and fighting to keep the smirk off his face. "That's a lot of weird coming from a guy who can't even classify his..." he looked at the top of my head, and the smirk finally arrived. "_Hairstyle._"

I crossed my arms and scowled at him. "Well it was weird. It was _blue._"

"Is he on the team?"

"What? No. He was in the baby pool."

Axel stared at me, and for once he was speechless. It only lasted a few seconds. "Trust you to notice his fucking hair is blue and ignore the fact that there's a dude swimming with a bunch of kids," he said, then leaned back and stretched his legs out over my lap. "You going to go back?"

I smiled and nodded.

He grinned back at me and shoved the notebook he was scrutinising earlier over to me and said, "What do you make of this?"

"The drawing? That-that's Rox--God, Axel, I did _not_ need to see that!"

He took the book emblazoned with doodles of Roxas in various compromising positions, and whacked me across the face with it.

"Not that, the fucking _writing_. I can't make it out!"

When I couldn't stop laughing at him, he threw the notebook onto the coffee table and shook his head.

"So, what are we doing tonight?"

I felt a grin spread across my face, and Axel immediately said, with great vehemence, "I don't care what you say; we're not watching A fucking Hard Day's Night again."

* * *

I went to bed before Axel that night, but I couldn't sleep. I watched each hour of the clock go by and became increasingly frustrated. I twisted in my sheets and couldn't work out why I was so antsy, so I got up, opened the window and sat at my desk. My computer flickered to life and I checked my university e-mail account: nothing but updates from my tutors about next weeks' topics and the impending doom of essays, and a solitary unmarked email that was flagged as urgent. I didn't recognise the e-mail address.

_Hey Demyx, it's Roxas. New address, hope you don't delete this thinking it's spam. Or porn from Axel. Anyway, there's a party at Mullholland House on Friday, 6pm. Don't tell HIM._

Mullholland House was one of the university dorms Axel and I had ruled out in favour of having a flat, since Axel couldn't stand the idea of set meal times. I replied to Roxas and told him that I'd be there, but that I couldn't promise that Axel wouldn't find out about it, because if he could find a boy who so obviously wanted to disappear, he could get information out of a guy he spent every day and night with.

And I've never been good at keeping secrets.


End file.
